The GFE
by jennygrrl
Summary: You'll have to see for yourself... THIS IS NC17!


Room 224. Pausing at the door, she rapped twice and stepped back, glancing up and down the plush white hallway. The deadbolt clicked, and when he pulled the door back, leaned carelessly alongside the frame, she had to admit... she was reasonably impressed. He was probably one of the most attractive men she'd ever encountered, his dark blonde hair chopped short, his eyes a rich honey brown.

"Logan?" she questioned, wrapping her arms across her midsection, her fingers curling over her ribs.

"You're... from the service?" Even from where she stood, she could tell he'd been drinking. Nervous tension built across his body, affixing his slim and narrow torso against the frame. The pale light illuminated his glassy eyes, his breath sweet with, if she had to guess, top-shelf scotch.

"Yeah, I'm..."

"Veronica," he muttered, dropping his gaze to the carpeting beneath her feet.

"That's right. I'm …Veronica," she smiled, licking the corner of her mouth as his eyes returned to hers. "May I come in?"

Slowly he worked himself away from the door, his arm stretching to hoist himself from the jamb. "So the rate we discussed on the phone... that covers…."

"It wasn't me," she paused, smiling and making a small gesture with her hand. "On the phone I mean. That wasn't me. But the note I got said you were looking for the GFE."

"The GFE?" He lifted both brows skeptically, shifting his hand behind his head to drag it through his short hair. Again she was struck by how gorgeous he was, really rather boyish in his good looks.

"The girlfriend experience," she nodded, slipping a reassuring smile in place. Dropping her coat and bag into an elegantly padded chair by the door, she continued to explain, "kissing, full service, though jacketed, intercourse, and," she tilted her head, biting at the side of her lip, "I can stay the night, if you'd like."

"And they say romance is dead," he huffed, gliding his hand from his neck to stuff it in his jeans pocket. "So, how do we do this then?"

"Well… you start by telling me what you want. We discuss a price, and once we're satisfied, we.…."

For a second the room was tranquil, the electronic whir and hum of appliances the only sound. Finally, he broke the silence, "What are my options then?" Circling the ice around in his empty glass, he added, "Care for a drink? I'm pretty sure I could use another."

"Sure." She watched him pad across the room in his white socks, stop next to the mini-bar at the opposite end. He dropped to one knee in front of it, pulling ice from a tiny tray. The light from the tall candlestick lamp in the far corner caught hold of the gold band on his finger. "Whatever you're having is fine. And as far as options are concerned..." she paused tentatively, approaching him from behind, "it'd probably be easier to tell me what you're missing."

He froze immediately, stopped dropping ice into their glasses, his back stiffening, "I'm not missing anything."

"Alright," she grinned, taking the cue, shrugging dismissively.

"You said intercourse, right?" Looking back at her over his shoulder, he turned two small bottles of scotch upside down and drained them into a new glass, opened two more and refilled his own. "How much extra... sans the jacket?" The smirk filtering across his mouth made her heartbeat flutter.

"Bareback?" When he stood up again, she couldn't help compare her height to his. He had almost a good foot on her, though she mused, his body was definitely built for climbing. He held out her drink between two fingers, ducked his head waiting for her to finish. Gingerly, she relieved the glass from his cautious grip. "That depends. I don't normally…"

"Yeah, well, you don't strike me as the kind of woman to really have a _normally_," he interrupted.

"It's dangerous," she hesitated. "Not just for me, but for… all parties concerned."

Holding up his drink, he toasted her with a slight grin, then tilted his head back and drained it dry. "Danger's my middle name, sweetheart."

"Well… that makes it even more risky now, doesn't it, Logan?" Demurely she took a small sip of her drink, leaving a soft cherry-red kiss around the rim.

"Whatever the fee, I'll double it." Detachment and confidence seemed to replace his tension. Running his finger in a lazy ring around his glass, he glanced over at her, "Six K. Six K for the night buys me whatever I want."

Her mouth dropped open, and when her eyes collided with his, his raw sensuality scissored down her spine. His eyes were filled with open need, and for a second, she almost didn't hesitate; his offer almost tempting enough to throw caution to the wind. It was hard to look at him and imagine anyone refusing him anything; but still, she was no stranger to the ways people denied one another. "Six thousand," she exhaled. "Wow. That's a lot of money for one night."

"It is, but I've got odds on you being worth it." Setting his glass on the table, he slowly shifted back against the wall, dropping his arms to his side. She watched him closely; the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, and the erotic dart of his tongue across his lips. Just looking at him, she could see he knew his way around carnal pleasure; her curiosity to sample his physique was definitely overriding her better judgment.

"What makes you so sure?" She narrowed her eyes, a seductive quirk toying at the edges of her lips.

Pushing away from the wall, he closed the distance, trailing feather-light fingers through her straight, shoulder length hair. "I always bet on blondes."

Her mouth went dry, forcing her to gulp. She secured herself with a long, slow breath. "Six thousand dollars for one night – whatever you want – as long as it's within reason. If I say stop, we stop. Deal?"

"Whatever you say, Ver-onnn-iccc-aaa," he sang mockingly, his alcohol-laced breath caressing her cheek. He stood motionless, casually raking his eyes down her body with shameless insinuation. "You're beautiful, you know that?" Standing back just a bit, he narrowed his eyes, his voice gravelly, "Undress for me."

A tremor sizzled through her nervous system, butterflies of anticipation quivering deep in her belly. Step by step he withdrew, swaggering backwards to one of the overstuffed lounges just outside the radius of the mellow lamplight. "I want to see you," he murmured, the emotion twisting around his words making her tremble.

"Whatever you want, baby," she whispered, sliding the black spaghetti strap of her slim black gown down her shoulder. "I'll do anything you want." Turning to the side, she offered him her profile, the second strap slipping down her arm to join its twin. Raising her hand to her neck, she gradually lowered the zipper on the back of the dress, carefully holding it at the sides to prevent it from pooling around her feet. "That's what you want, isn't it? To be in control?"

"Yes-s-s-s-s-s," he breathed, inching himself deeper into the maroon velvet. Even though his face was masked by shadow, she could taste his desire; so when she turned her back to him and set the dress free, she waited patiently for his labored groan.

Red lace enveloped her creamy skin. The strapless bra was custom made, a dense band of thinly tattooed fabric woven together to hold her breasts firmly. The boxer-cut briefs were identical, showcasing the curve of her hips, hugging the arch of her ass. Just below, red satin garter belts held her silky-dark stockings perfectly in place. Bending at the waist, her legs spread wide, she leisurely stretched forward, roaming her fingers from her ankle to her calf, up the backs of her thighs, exposing him to the faultless view. Teasing her fingers in a deliberate exhibition up her body, she stood again, turning around to face him. Crisscrossing her four inch heels, one in front of the other, she positioned herself directly in front of him, locking his gaze. With quick fingers, she unclasped the hooks at the back of the bra, dropping it to the floor to reveal her breasts. Her small, pink nipples were already hard, just begging to be touched and tasted. When she slipped her fingers to the solid band of her panties, she watched him struggle to swallow. "Not yet."

Drifting her fingertips sensually across her silken flesh, she lifted her other hand to brush away an errant strand of her long, flowing hair. "Touch me," she whispered, fascinated by the liquid emotion in his eyes.

When his fingers made contact with her skin, she stopped breathing altogether. He bent forward in his chair, dragging the backs of his nails across her smooth stomach, an air of reverence etched across his face. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so turned on, but thinking delayed the sensation of his touch, so she simply stopped. His name fled her parted lips in a breathy sigh, "Lo-gahhn."

He stood quickly, wrapped his entire body around her, his mouth crashing down over hers. She had no time to brace herself, clutching against his chest for support, sucking in whatever breath he'd allow between fervent kisses.

His hands were everywhere, smoothing sinuously across her back, grasping her ribcage. He spun the two of them around, over and over, plunging his tongue inside her whimpering mouth. With his hands at her waist, he lifted her effortlessly, tossed her onto the mattress and deliberately stood back just to watch her bounce. When she came to rest, he stretched out over her, hovering, his hands pressed into the mattress above her head, his mouth inches away from hers. The expensive, white-cotton button-down he wore, fell towards her. It brushed across her sensitive nipples, as he playfully teased his lips nearer to hers, pulling away before they touched.

Every moment was calculated, she could see it in his hungry eyes. The closer he came to making contact, the more of his secret he divulged. His lips ghosted across the arch of her cheekbones, opening his mouth to drown her in the heat of his breath, before licking a steady line up the side of her throat. "I want you," he panted, sucking the delicate skin just under her earlobe. "I want to be inside you. I want to make you come."

His kisses were intoxicating, igniting a fire under her skin. He laved at her jugular, swallowing her steady pulse. "I'm going to fuck you, Veronica. You're gonna weep my name. I'm going to fuck your tight little pussy until you scream for me."

"Oh God," she whimpered, rolling her hips up, straining into him. "Anything you want." She'd barely finished when he kissed her silent, sliding his tongue back into her throat. His deep groan reverberated in the cavern of her mouth, and she lapped at his tongue, matching the urgency of his engulfing embrace.

Threading his fingers under the lacy clutch of her panties, he drove two fingers inside her. "So wet," he hissed across her collarbone. Rotating them, he slipped them out slowly, languidly tracing dizzying spirals around her opening. "Hot and tight as fuck."

A muffled "mmmph" bled from her lips, the sensation too intense. Deftly plying his fingers through her juices, he continued to loop around her entrance, compelling her to thrust against his hand. "Please," she whimpered.

"Please what?" Masterfully he continued, scorching her skin as he peppered ravenous kisses down her neck, her clavicle, the base of her sternum. Without waiting for an answer, he took her hard nipple into his mouth, plunging his fingers back inside her, flicking his tongue at the stiff point.

"Oh fuck," she cried out, wrapping her hand around the back of his head.

Pulling his fingers out of her, he sealed a kiss over her pebbled flesh and rose up, bracing her hips between his knees. Tenderly he caressed his hand between the sloping valley of her breasts, down her trembling tummy, finally hooking his fingers at the waistband of her underwear. With sheer veneration, he worked them down her toned, thighs, over her calves, and slipped them off the sharp spikes of her still heeled feet. Once he was done, he stood, taking a few steps back from the bed just to look at her. Deliberately he sank to his knees at the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. "Spread yourself for me, I want to see how wet you are."

Between her parting fingers, she slowly slipped herself open, revealing the soft pink blush of her skin, the glistening dampness vividly displayed in the placid glow of the lamplight. His eyes fell from hers to her spread fingers. Reaching out to touch her, he drew his index and middle fingers through the slickness, slipping them into his mouth to suck them clean. "So beautiful... everywhere." He drew in a long, slow, wavering breath. "Now, get on your knees."

Obediently, she flipped over, her stomach brushing the quilted fabric of the spread. He was at her side once more, dragging his fingernails down the center of her back as she brought herself up on her hands and knees. "Keep your forehead against the mattress," he whispered huskily. Closing her eyes, doing as he requested, she faintly registered the sharp snap of him switching the lamps off.

The air teemed with electricity. Lying naked and alone in the center of his bed, she should have felt more exposed – his missing hands, the chill of the air – but all she felt was the flushing heat shooting through her veins. After a few silent moments, she heard the clicking of his fly, and the obvious thud of his jeans hitting the floor. There was no way to be certain, but she also thought she heard the faint whispered hush of his shirt as he stripped it off. Turning her head slightly, she peered into the darkness, seeking his approach. .

"I'm right here," he murmured, crawling up the mattress from behind her. His hands met her calves, parting them wider, his fingers drawing up the insides to her thighs. He advanced until his knees rested inside hers, his fingers sketching along her taut musculature. "I remember the first time I did this to you, Veronica; took you from behind." A small shuddering breath was her only response, as she envisioned his words. "You came three times, all over my cock." While he spoke, he brushed the head of his dick against her slit. "Three times," his free hand wound down her spine, coercing her lower. "God," he sighed, testing the heat between her legs. "Every time I just wanted to taste you. Wanted to bury my tongue inside you and force you to ride against me until you did it again."

Leaning over her, his bare chest covering her back, he wrapped both of his hands around her wrists. In that instant, she was positive she'd never felt so small in all her life, wrapped up, on her knees, beneath him. Rocking forward, he pressed his lips to her ear, panting harshly, "You'll do it for me now, won't you?" His cocked bumped up against her, forcing her to shiver in expectation. Each powerful thrust made her shudder, but their bodies refused to connect. On the fifth buck of his hips, he pulled one hand away from hers, anchored himself in his fist, and thrust up inside her.

They groaned in unison, his thighs resting along the curve of her ass. She rocked back as he rocked forward, see-sawing hip to pelvis, burning with the slick friction. He curled his fingers into her sides, sliding his thumbs under each garter, grounding her beneath him. With short, deliberate strokes, he set their pace, massaging the solid length of his cock over her g-spot. The intense sensation made her crumble; grasping the sheets and twisting them in her hands. It was almost excruciating – the focus so sharp and demanding, she'd have to come just to break free. "I can't," she gasped. "Logan, I … I can't." Her body trembled beneath his hands as he pivoted into her at the perfect angle. "I… I…" she stuttered, before the feeling overwhelmed her. No more words. It was impossible to think, to speak; nothing existed beyond the rushing torrent that swept through her.

He covered her for a second time, dragging his hands down her sides at equal speed, feeling for himself the power of her orgasm. "Again," he huffed, pummeling his dick inside her, centering each drive against the same spot. Overwhelming became unbearable, but still she rode it, clenching her jaw. She cried out without stopping – keening endlessly into the hollow crook of her arm. "Come with me, Veronica," he begged. His thrusts became more erratic, his hips jerking and straining. The hoarse grunt that escaped him made her visualize his expression, his mouth open, his head thrown back, the sweat trickling down his neck. She imagined the handsome face from earlier, contorted as if almost in pain, jaw set rigidly. The mental image was enough. She convulsed around him, seizing and releasing, and with a loud, guttural cry, he shot inside her.

Panting, he rested his forehead on her back, leveraging his full weight off of her. Together they breathed heavily, each of them trying to refill their lungs. Taking a deep breath, she squirmed, anxious to restore the blood flow to her knees. The act scooted her further down the bed, his spent cock in the crease of her ass.

They lay sandwiched together, the two of them regaining their strength. Underneath him she shifted slightly until he wrapped her hair around his hand, bit into the base of her neck and assertively told her to stop. She whimpered when his teeth grazed her ear, his knees nudging against her bottom, encouraging her to rise.

On her hands and knees once more, she leaned back into him, the alignment of her body forcing her to gasp. When he pressed the crowning head of his dick against her ass, she blew out a shivering breath in protest, "Logan, I … I really can't."

"You can," he breathed, rocking the smooth, firm tip forward with more insistence.

Her entire body trembled, fighting the compulsion to draw away. "Please, I haven't… I don't… not like this," but her objection was met only by the solid thrust of his hardening cock.

Shifting the flat of his hand down her back, dragging it around to her middle, he softly palmed her ribcage, then her breasts. The fullness of his hand, strumming over her heart, gave her chills. It brought him impossibly close, his breath ragged at her ear. "I promise I'm not going to hurt you. It's gonna feel good, and you're gonna let me. Just relax. Relax-x-x-x," he soothed, nudging himself up against her bottom with every revolution of his hips.

She felt him stretch, reaching above her for something she couldn't see. The minute his cold, wet fingers came in contact with her, the slick, oily liquid snaking liberally along her puckered flesh, she gasped and understood. He fully intended to do it; he meant to fuck her in a way she'd only experienced a few times before … and never, ever in a situation like this.

"Please, Logan," she whispered, her voice shaking, the slick resonance of his hand fisting over his shaft and his low grunt making her weak.

"I promise," he murmured again, his voice thick with need. Just as she screwed her eyes shut, his thin finger slid through the liquid, pushing gently, yet adamantly past her creased skin. He slid in slowly, the muscle expanding to meet the pressure, instantly making her sway on weedy knees. He worked his first digit inside her, seemingly drinking up her gasps and groans, plying her with enough sensation to break down her resistance. Slowly, gradually, he worked a second finger inside her, flexing them to prime her.

"That's it," he comforted, pressing his mouth to her shoulder blade, amorously kissing down her spine. "Just let go, Veronica. I promise, you'll love this." Dire, needy words fueled his intent, one hand traveling across the swell her ass, the other steadying his slick cock. "Relax," he coaxed once more, and when she breathed in, concentrating on loosening muscles normally tensed, he eased past the restriction.

Delicately she gulped, swallowing against the small fraction of pain. As if he could tell, his hand secured her hip, averting her further movement. "Just this," he panted, and even though she couldn't see him, she imagined his eyes closed in ecstasy.

All pain subsided, melted into an exquisite craving for more – more motion, more friction, more of his hands, his heat, his body; she demanded more of the incredible feeling he was creating inside her, so she moaned, low and resolute, "Please, don't stop."

Her muscles flexed invitingly around him, narrowing the deeper he sunk. "So… tight…," he stuttered, fighting against the impulse to thrust. "Oh fuck, Veronica." He blindly slipped his hand inside her, dipping his finger between her velvet folds, stroking across her clit.

Her soft staccato moan vibrated in the back of her throat, finishing on a long-held whimper. "Harder. More!"

Logan began to move, his body shaking with the effort. "Christ," he gritted out, pressing into her until there was no more give. Slowly he rocked back on his knees, his fingers caressing her writhing form. With a sudden thrust, she tapered the space between them, bucking back against him harder than expected. The sudden resistance caught him off guard, winding him. He held himself motionless, letting her thrash against him wildly, back and forth; she was using him in the way she was almost certain he wanted to be used. "Oh... God," he shuddered, trying to find purchase against her grinding hips. "Fuck, fuck ... FUCK!"

"Oh God, fuck me!" she cried, shrieking loudly when he did. She bit into her lower lip, imagining his drawn face as he reamed her, composure and formality lost to both. "Jesus," she gasped, his frenetic fingers working at her center. Together they strained, fighting to bring one another to completion.

All at once, too good morphed into abraded euphoria, her body racking with tremors as she uncontrollably screamed his name, "Logan, Lo-ghannn, Lo-gaaaaaaaaahn."

"Uh, fuck," he grunted, jerking against her convulsing frame. When she fell to the mattress, he toppled against her, twisting his hips up in one final drive. With his mouth at her neck, breathing frantic words beside her racing pulse, he spent himself inside her. Helplessly she lay caught beneath him, his bone-jarring orgasm causing him to shudder over top of her.

* * *

"You don't know how lucky you are," she whispered, slipping her shaking arms around his neck.

"There isn't a day goes by that I don't realize how lucky I am," he murmured, his voice quiet, exhaustion evident.

"You could have had anyone. A brunette, a red-head; I could have been one of those sleazy strip-club bimbos," she teased lightly, nuzzling her nose under his chin. "But no…."

"What did I tell you about that?" he paused, waiting for her to answer even though he knew she wouldn't. "I told you I would play any game you wanted, except one that involved cheating on my wife on our tenth anniversary."

"Not cheating, Logan," she laughed in a warm, billowy breath across his cheek. "You know what they say, variety... spice of life-"

"Blah, blah, blah," he contributed with a cocky smirk.

"So instead, you opted for me to dress up as... me." Reaching up, she unwound the bobby pins holding the long, blonde wig in place, pulling it away from her much shorter hair.

"Hey, I'm still trying to get over the fact that this was your idea." Lovingly he trailed his hand through her natural hair. "Though, as I suspected... you were worth every damn penny."

"Six grand?" she crinkled her nose in amusement. "Banging your wife in some seedy hotel room was worth six grand to you?"

"Mmm, yup," he responded manifestly.

"You just wanted to fuck my ass," she giggled, an honest-to-goodness, throaty chuckle.

"Guilty as charged, Mrs. Echolls." He pressed a soft kiss to bridge of her nose. "Guilty as charged."

He was quiet for a while, holding her gently, rocking her so softly the motion barely reflected. "I love you, Veronica. I hope you know not a day goes by that I don't realize how fortunate I am to have you. How lucky I am that I finally wore you down enough so you'd marry my sorry ass. I love you, Veronica," he whispered, trailing his full hand down her back. "I love you."

Two tears wound their way down her cheeks. No matter how many times she'd tried to emulate him, she'd never been able to express her feelings quite the way he did. In ten years time, her ability hadn't much improved. Reaching down to retrieve his hand, she brought it to her heart, nestling it resolutely over her breast. "Forever," she whispered.

"Forever," he agreed.

She fit herself snuggly to his chest, trapping his hand over her thrumming heart, his other arm draped possessively over her shoulder while she silently measured the languid release of his body as he surrendered to fatigue. "Forever," she murmured quietly, closing her eyes, drifting to sleep.


End file.
